An Invitation

I’m more likely to be grumpy in February than in any other month. The anticipation and excitement of the holidays have faded into foggy memories. It’s cold outside. I’m tired. Bleh.

This time of year, even the most enjoyable aspects of life can become irritating. Most days, I’m deeply aware of the benefits of our lifestyle. Schooling at home allows the flexibility to enjoy a myriad of rich experiences. Books read together become enduring family friends, and recess often takes the form of digging in the creek or building forts outside. Fidgety boys take basketball breaks when needed, and my crafty girl creates throughout the day. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Usually.

Yet much to my own surprise, I recently found myself engrossed in researching the admission policies and procedures of the private schools in our area. I paid close attention to the big yellow bus schedule and took note that there were plenty of available seats. My mind had begun constructing a new and improved life for myself – one that included long runs and a home with preordained periods of uninterrupted quiet. It had been a dark week. It wasn’t the first. And my commentary has nothing to do with school choice. It has everything to do with the posture of my heart.

I don’t want to be grouchy and discontented. I don’t want to become angry with my kids, short-tempered with my husband, or aloof with my friends. It is my desire to be more. To be patient, kind, and others-centered. But during that discouraging week, I wasn’t having much luck. Rather than deal with the mounting evidence that I was the problem, I found myself trying to sweep it under the carpet. Or perhaps more accurately, put it on the big yellow school bus and send it away.

Voices compete for my attention and energy. There are the high-pitched needs of the children, the muted desires of my husband, and the emphatically heated debate between self-justification and self-contempt that rages inside of me. Yet in the midst of the mental and emotional chaos, a gentle yet unwavering voice emerges…

I’m inviting you to more.

When your children’s needs outweigh your capacity to give,I’m inviting you to grow in dependence.

When your tired husband returns from a trip and you want his help more than you want him,I’m inviting you to grow in selflessness.

When you’ve been treated unfairly and want to retaliate (or withdraw),I’m inviting you to grow in kindness.

When a friend disappoints out of her own insecurities or fears,I’m inviting you to grow in faithfulness.

When there are mounting bills, piles of laundry, sick children and weary hearts,I’m inviting you to grow in joy.

When you’re heartbroken, or even angry, that life doesn’t look like you had hoped,I’m inviting you to grow in peace.

When customer service eats up half your day then drops your call and the guy selling pine needles interrupts dinner while the dog throws up on the living room rug,I’m inviting you to grow in patience.

When you’re willing to see that the problem isn’t your needy kiddos,

Or those annoying people who interrupt your day,
Or your friends,Or your spouse,Or your life situation,

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Comments

You read my heart & mind this morning. I, too, have spent this cold month trying to manipulate the circumstances in order to avoid examining my own heart. Thanks for the reminder that I am the problem, but Jesus loves me anyway. And he is the solution.

This has been my last two weeks – I was in such a funk that my husband began to think there was something deeply wrong. And there was something deeply wrong. But it was just plain old selfishness. Thanks for the invitation. I will be joining, by the grace of God.

Axon – It’s a fine line, isn’t it? There are times when we really do need a break to gain rest, refreshment, and perspective. But there are days when all the distance and rest in the world won’t calm my restless heart. I’m so grateful for grace.

I’m so grateful that we don’t have to “muster up” the answer to the problem. Our job is to be willing and open to receive. Accepting grace can be hard, can’t it? Sadly, I’d rather try to make life work on my own. Sigh.

Oh, thank you for writing this. I know the point was not needy children or home schooling, but our hearts in the midst of all the craziness. Still, some days I fear that I’m just not up to motherhood or our future plans for homeschooling. Well, if the Lord will draw me into greater love and selflessness and patience, then he will enable me to carry out his calling for me here.

Kathleen – No doubt that whatever calling we’ve been given comes with challenge. For me, it sure helps to take one day at a time, without worrying about what tomorrow (or next year) will bring. Blessings to you and yours.